


Enter the College

by DeeNomilk



Series: Tashok the Dragonborn [5]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: College of Winterhold - Freeform, Tash is kind of a teacher's pet, alchemy is fun, in that she thinks that if they don't like her they'll kick her out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-28 03:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18203186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeeNomilk/pseuds/DeeNomilk
Summary: After being turned down less than two weeks earlier, Tashok is back and able to cast the spell to get into the College. This is about her first two days in, and settling in.





	Enter the College

**Author's Note:**

> I usually won't get into the scenes that are in the game very much, since I assume that people reading this already know them, so unless I modify or want to add something, assume the scenes I skip or cut short proceed as normal.

Her hard work and training paid off.

Tashok releases a surge of magic towards the College’s symbol engraved into the stone as pride wells within her. The stone glows with energy before flickering out as the Altmer woman guarding the entranceway hums, clearly satisfied by Tashok’s mastery of the new spell.

“You’ve practiced.” Faralda notes.

“I have!” Tashok smiles. “I want to know more about magic.”

“Well done, indeed. I think you'll be a superb addition to the College. Welcome, Apprentice. I'll lead you across the bridge. Once you're inside you'll want to speak with Mirabelle Ervine, our Master Wizard. Please, follow me.”

“That was the entrance exam?” Lucien scoffs in disbelief as they trail behind Faralda. “That’s ridiculous! What, just cast a spell and you’re in?!”

“Entrance exam?” Tashok tilts her head. “Why should it be hard? You come here to learn magic, what’s the point of getting in if you already know everything…”

“Still, they should have better standards.” Lucien declares.

“If they did I definitely wouldn’t get in…” Tashok points out with a nervous laugh. “Yay for low standards!”

Lucien sighs as they continue up the damaged bridge, listening to Faralda explain more about Mirabelle and the College until they reach a large courtyard adorned with a large statue in the centre.

“Winterhold must’ve been beautiful back in its day…” Lucien notes wistfully. “I wish I could’ve seen it.”

“It’s gorgeous.” Tashok gasps.

There’s an aura about the courtyard that’s both serene yet powerful and mysterious. The heavy snowflakes swirling into the centre bringing a sharper accent to the energy.

“Well, I suppose from a certain angle it’s still quite impressive…” Lucien notes as they finally come upon two mages, one a Breton woman and an Altmer man dressed in black robes, seemingly having an argument.

“I believe I’ve made myself rather clear.” the woman folds her arms.

“Yes of course.” the other mage tone is calm, yet exasperation is noticeable if one cares to pay attention. “I am simply trying to understand the reasoning behind the decision.”

“You may be used to the Empire bowing to your every whim, but you’ll find the Thalmor will receive no such treatment here. You are here at the pleasure of the Arch-Mage… I hope you appreciate the opportunity”

“The Thalmor?! Here?” Lucien leans in close to Tashok and speaks just above a whisper. “That can’t be good…”

“Yes of course…” the Thalmor says in a placating voice. “The Arch-Mage has my thanks.”

“Good. Then we’re done here.” the woman turns and sees Tashok and Lucien standing a few feet away from them. “And who might you be?”

“I’m Tashok…” Tashok’s voice is small. “I was told to find Mirabelle Ervine?”

“That would be me… Are you…? Another new student, then. I’m surprised at how many of you there are lately. Well, first you’ll need College boots and robes, though you’re not required to wear them, but you might prefer them over your current clothes. I’ll give you a brief tour, and then you can go to your first class. Are you ready to begin?”

“Yes! Absolutely!” Tashok’s eyes sparkle with excitement. “I’m ready!”

“Well, you’re certainly enthusiastic…” Mirabelle notes. “Just make sure to temper your ambition with caution.”

“Oh trust me, I won’t take any unnecessary risks.”

“Good. Then, follow me.”

Mirabelle shows the two of them around the premises, allowing Tashok to don her robes in her quarters and leave Pearl curled up on the bed before sending her to the Hall of the Elements. In the hall stands three apprentices, one Dunmer, a Nord, and a Khajiit.

“Ah, another student.” an older Nord, whom Tashok assumes to be Tolfdir, sees them enter. “Come in, we’re just about to begin.”

Tashok stands at the far right of the group, listening intently to the beginning of the lecture. Tolfdir begins to tell the group about safety and caution, but is quickly pushed by the other apprentices to tackle something more concrete and practical.

“You’ve been quiet so far.” he turns to Tashok, who feels her cheeks go red at the sudden attention. “What do you think we should do?”

“You, want my opinion?!” Tashok blinks, dumbfounded.

“I do.”

“I, uh…” she thinks for a moment before straightening her back and smiling confidently. “I think safety is more important than anything.”

She hears a groan from her side.

“Well, your classmates certainly seem to disagree with you.” Tolfdir notes.

“Ah, don’t listen to her.” the Khajiit waves his hand dismissively. “We can do it, just give us a chance!”

“All right, let's settle down. I suppose we can try something practical... In continuing with our theme of safety, we'll start with Wards. Wards are protective spells that block magic…”

—

Tashok had not thought much about the interaction at the start of the lesson until she was sitting on her new bed absent-mindedly petting Pearl while skimming through her Herbology book. She overhears her fellow apprentices entering the Hall of Attainment.

“Honestly, it does seem like she’s trying to become the teacher’s favourite here…” she overhears the young Nord sigh.

Are they, talking about her? They could be referring to Brelyna, the Dunmer apprentice.

“Why don’t we just ask her?” Brelyna suggests.

They’re definitely talking about Tashok, which makes her ears perk up as she creeps closer to her door in order to listen in.

“One does not just ask that.” the Khajiit says. “If she is trying to cozy up to the teachers, she will not say it explicitly, and if she is simply afraid of power, she will not admit it.”

“So… why are we discussing this?” Brelyna asks. “She disagreed with us, end of story.”

Tashok takes a deep breath and opens her door, visibly startling the other apprentices, who suddenly look very guilty and nervous.

“Oh, it’s you!” the Nord stammers.

“We uh…” Brelyna hesitates. “Did you hear us?”

“I did.” Tashok states simply. No point in pretending she didn't.

“We were not trying to speak ill of you behind your back…” the Khajiit starts.

“Sure.” Tashok blinks slowly. She's not fully convinced. 

People tend to do just that.

“It’s true!” Brelyna interjects. “It’s just… You didn’t seem to want to learn… And we were wondering why. Out loud.”

“I mean, none of us would be here if we couldn’t handle ourselves…” the Nord starts. “So we were just surprised that you would rather wait and just listen to theory rather than learn something more pract-“

“Safety is important.” Tashok cuts him off, which surprises her. “I learned my lesson the hard way already. If I can do theory for a bit instead, I’ll take it.”

“You did?” Brelyna asks. “How so?”

“I…” Tashok sighs, wondering if she wants to be so upfront and open with these strangers.

She decides yes, raises her fingers to her right shoulder and moves her robe to reveal her scar, still red and fresh, being a little over a week old.

The Nord visibly pales at the sight.

“How did this happen?” the Khajiit quirks an eyebrow.

“I walked in head first into danger, without wondering if it was a good idea or not…” Tashok looks down bitterly, scolding herself again. “I thought I could handle anything… I had my bow, I had magic… I can heal myself, I can heal others. I can become invisible once a day if I really put my mind to it. But all of that wasn’t enough.”

Tashok now sounds chagrined.

“I still almost died.” she glares at her scar, her voice shaking at the reminder. “Worse, still, I almost got my friend killed along the way.”

She looks over to the closed door of Lucien's room.

“I made it out because of luck, not because of my skills, and most certainly not because of foresight.” she admits.

“What are you trying to say?” the Nord speaks in an unsteady voice. “Never to take risks?”

“One does not become great without taking risks, you see.” the Khajiit tells her.

“I know.” Tashok rolls her eyes pulls her robe back over her shoulder. “I’m saying we need to weigh our options and assess those risks against the benefits. We’re mages, we’re supposed to be smart. I think that’s what Tolfdir was trying to tell us. It’s about more than skills, it’s about thinking ahead, taking note of everything during a battle, like how many injuries you’ve sustained, how hurt your friends and your enemies are. And I think it’s even more important to be careful since we’re dealing with magic… I wasn’t trying to sound condescending, I just don’t want anyone else here to learn the hard way if I can help it.”

“But, are you afraid, still?” the Nord asks.

“I…” Tashok’s eyes widen, before narrowing as she looks down. “Yes… The experience is still new, I think about it a lot.”

“Well, we’re in a place to help us learn. Experience is the best teacher.” Brelyna looks between her fellow apprentices. “Maybe, just within a controlled environment. I’m sure you’ve got nothing to fear here.”

“Indeed! One can spend an eternity reading books but theory will only prepare us so much.” the Khajiit states.

“Maybe so…” Tashok rubs her eyes sleepily. “I just… I don’t know. Goodnight…”

Tashok returns to her room and puts away the book. She’s read it many times over by now, added her own notes in the margins, but her next order of business is to hone her craft. But that doesn’t mean she can’t use books to help her along the way.

—

The next morning Tashok spends most of her breakfast conversing enthusiastically with the other apprentices, each of them revealing their motivations in attending the College.

“Well, I’m in Skyrim, I want to learn magic, and I can do that here!” Tashok tells them. “Simple enough.”

“That’s why I chose to be here too.” Onmund chimes in. “I’d rather stay in Skyrim if I can help it.”

“While Skyrim was not J’Zargo’s first choice, it does have the benefit of being removed from politics entirely, unlike Mages in Cyrodiil.... The Synod and the College of Whispers are too busy guarding secrets to bother to teach.” J’Zargo folds his arms and tilts up his chin confidently. “At least here, J’Zargo can become great.”

"What about you?" Brelyna turns to Lucien, who’d been relatively quiet so far.“Why did you come here?”

“Oh, me?” he starts a bit at the question. “I’m actually not a student here, I’m just Tashok’s travelling companion. I go where she takes me.”

“Lucien studied at the Arcane University!” Tashok boasts for her friend. “He’s really smart!”

“Well, I’m more of an amateur at magic, really…”Lucien smiles modestly. “I mostly studied Dwemer history.”

“Well, you’ll find plenty of ruins here, I can assure you.” Onmund informs him.

“I quite look forward to it - it’s why I came to Skyrim in the first place.”

He pauses to eat more, an no one fills in the silence. They don't need to, content with eating side by side.

“Well, I’ll see you all later at the lecture.” Brelyna stands up. “I need to go find Tolfdir.”

The rest of the small group quickly disperses until all have gone there separate ways, aside from Lucien, who's staying around Tashok.

“Wouldn’t want one of us to get lost here.” Lucien says. “Best to stick together until we’re familiar with the grounds.”

The two of them encounter the College librarian, an Orc who warns the duo of angry Atronachs should they make the mistake of mistreating the collection of books.

“You can summon Atronachs?!” she leans excitedly over the counter. “Do you have a spell tome for it?”

“I do, actually.” he responds after a moment of stunned silence and pulls out the spells he has on hand. “Here.”

“Oooh!” Tashok picks up the spell tome for a flame Atronach. “I’ll take this one!”

“Don’t you dare practice that in here.” he says sternly as he takes her coins.

“Around books?!" Tashok gapes, aghast. "That’s a recipe for disaster… No no no no no, I’ll be practicing this one down by the shore.”

“Or the Hall of the Elements. That’s what it’s for.”

“… Yeah that too.”

Tashok feels silly for forgetting the obvious Hall.

“The locals don’t take kindly to summoned creatures.” another voice echoes through the Arcaneum, prompting Tashok to turn to the speaker.

A Breton man is seated at one of the small tables with a tattered yet functional tome laid open on it.

“Phinis Gestor.” he introduces himself. “I’m the expert in Conjuration magic here at the College. If you have any issues with that spell you just bought, or any questions regarding Conjuration, come to me.”

“I will!” Tashok smiles. “Thanks!… Actually, is there any way to make my spells less loud? Whenever I summon my bow everyone hears it and it’s not the best when I’m trying to be quiet.”

While Tashok approaches the man, Lucien asks Urag if he has any books regarding the Dwemer ruins of Skyrim.

“Ah, that would be a skill Drevis could help you with.” Phinis answers. “He’s the Illusion expert here.”

“And, uh… how will I know it’s him?” Tashok asks. “I don’t know people by names here yet.”

“He’s a Dunmer with a tendency to be invisible, or forgetful… meaning he forgets he’s invisible at times. You’ll know it’s him when you meet I’m certain.”

“Perfect!”

Tashok turns to see Lucien excitedly slipping a book into his knapsack. As she starts walking towards the exit she stops in her tracks and returns to Phinis with a slight jog.

“And uh, remind me again what his name?” she laughs nervously.

“Drevis.” is Phinis’ patient answer.

“Right! Thank you!” she grabs the nearest quill and jots in down on her hand.

Tashok spends the next three hours trying to find the aforementioned mage, coming up empty, while Lucien reads his book as he trails behind her. This works for the first two hours, until he crashes into one of the doorframes.

“Maybe you should sit down to read it?” Tashok suggests. “There’s some seats right there.”

“I suppose it might be more advisable.” Lucien sighs. “Stay close?”

“Of course, I’ll just look around those rooms over there…”

He sits on a nearby bench while Tashok walks from room to room, peering in. She comes upon the College’s Enchanting room, and finally the Alchemy table, as well as its surrounding ingredients.

“I, wow…” she gasps as she walks into the space and runs her eyes over the many ingredients.

“You like our selection?” Mirabelle’s voice echoes through the chamber from behind.

Tashok jumps up in surprise and turns to see Mirabelle, sitting on one of the benches and sipping on a cup of wine.

“Madam Ervine!” she yelps out in surprise.

“You can just call me Mirabelle…” Mirabelle crosses the hallway to her. “Most of us prefer to use our first names, with the exception of Aren.”

“The Arch-Mage?”

“Correct.”

The mage observes Tashok silently, clearly expecting something, but what Tashok doesn’t know.

“I, uh… Am I allowed to use these?” Tashok points to the shelves behind her.

“Of course, all the materials provided are at your disposal.” Mirabelle states in a way that sounds almost recited.

“Just like that?”

Tashok’s voice doesn’t hide her disbelief.

There must be something more they want from her. Some sort of payment to have a membership, or a certain quota of potions or results she needs to give to the College.

“What do you mean?” Mirabelle frowns with consideration. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I mean…” thinks before deciding being direct would be the best course of action. “What’s expected of me here?”

"There are no expectations. This College is a place to study and practice magic freely.” Mirabelle says. “Hopefully any discoveries made in your pursuits will be shared with the members of the College first. That way we all benefit." 

And with that Mirabelle motions to the table, inviting Tashok to use the table. Tashok quietly steps to the shelf and picks out the few ingredients she recognizes well and is familiar with, hesitating before grabbing them but ultimately taking whatever she sees fit. She picks the head of the blue mountain flowers and places the stem to the side while crushing the the petals. She then turns her attention to the other ingredient, finely chopping the blisterwort mushrooms with quick and easy speed before dropping the pieces into one of the vials. She feels Mirabelle’s eyes following her every movement and momentarily stops, her mind suddenly being more focused on the attention rather than the next step, at which point she draws a blank in what comes afterwards.

This is ridiculous.

Healing potions and poisons are her expertise.

She’s done too many to count by now and hasn’t hesitated in years.

But what if Mirabelle would do it differently.

Is she judging her skills?

Worst, judging her method?

Tashok’s eyes dart to the blisterwort, and is hit with the sudden realization that she’s missed the perfect timing opportunity to add the flower.

She curses under her breath as she takes off the vial and dumps its contents into the waste pail.

“Sorry… I don’t mean to waste ingredients.” she doesn’t meet Mirabelle’s eyes. “I’ll replace it with some of mine…”

“There’s no need for that.” Mirabelle reassures her before pausing, pondering silently.

Tashok can’t help but gulp.

“I-I swear I’m usually better than this…” she scrambles and wrings the sash from her robes between her now sweaty hands. “I just need to focus more, I know how to do this.”

Still silence, and Tashok doesn’t dare speak more, the weight of Mirabelle’s gaze making any more words die in her throat.

“Am I making you nervous?” Mirabelle asks. “I’m not here to judge, simply observe. I can leave you to your work if I hinder your ability to focus.”

“It’s fine.” Tashok sighs, frowning at the ingredients. It’s not fine. “I should be able to focus anyways, no self-respecting alchemist gets distracted by just another person being near. I just need to try and focus harder. Better. My old teacher used to tell me it was my biggest flaw. Can't pay attention to save my life.”

“Has that ever worked before?” Mirabelle’s voice is tinted with mirth. “It seems trying to focus harder is like trying to calm down. It’s not as easy at it sounds.”

When Tashok doesn’t respond, she continues.

“I know Drevis also struggles with focus, but he’s a fine mage nonetheless.” her tone seeps of guidance, reassurance even. “You don’t have to be perfect on every aspect, so long as you apply yourself and give your best.”

“Right…” Tashok still scolds herself for her blunder.

“Even without a potion made, I can tell that you’re an alchemist.”

“You- you can?”

“Yes. Your movements indicate familiarity… And expertise.”

Tashok turns back to the table with a blush reaching all the way to her ears. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, careful to clear her mind to start channelling both her knowledge and her muscle memory. As she focusses on the cuts of the mushroom, the temperature of the liquid and the timing, she forgets about the spectator next to her.

Soon enough she produces a small red bottle filled with the concoction.

“May I?” Mirabelle holds out her hand.

Tashok nods and gives her the potion. She watches Mirabelle smell it, and putting a few drops on her finger before giving it a taste.

“Would you mind if I brought this to Colette? She’s our Restoration expert here and would be familiar with the potency of healing supplies.”

“Oh. Um…” Tashok’s stomach drops at the idea of her potion being judged by an expert.

“At first glance this seems like a fine potion - you have no reason to doubt yourself.” Mirabelle seems to sense Tashok’s discomfort. “I simply like gauging all newcomers’ existing skills when they arrive. It’s much more satisfying to observe their progress this way. Of course if you wish to have this back it is yours to take.”

“It’s… it’s alright. You can keep it.”

“Very well. Until later, apprentice.”

As soon as Mirabelle leaves Tashok turns once more towards the ingredients and crafts a few more potions, mainly poisons meant to help her finish off enemies more quickly as well as more healing potions.

She eventually settles on trying to eat some ingredients available to in order to try and come to an assumption as to what it might be able to be used for. It’s not the most glamorous way to discover effects, but it beats playing a blind guessing game and potentially wasting ingredients.

It’s a few ingredients later that she picks up some imp stool and takes a deep breath, bracing herself.

This is going to hurt, but there’s always more to an ingredient than what’s on the surface.

Her eyes are closed as she ignores the weakening sensation of being unwell and focusses on anything she can recognize. She grinds the mushroom between her front teeth before letting it rest on her tongue.

“You do know those are poisonous, yes?” J’Zargo’s echoing voice startles her.

She chokes on the mushroom as it shoots into her throat when she inhales sharply in surprise.

“J’Zargo!” she chastises between two coughs. “What gives?”

“J’Zargo could ask you the same.” he chuckles as he sits on one of the benches nearby. “Why are you willingly eating a poison mushroom? I did not thing you were upset about last night…”

“It’s got more properties to it, I’m sure.” Tashok explains as she cuts another piece off. “I’m trying to figure them out.”

“Ah! You are a risk taker after all.” J'Zargo's face splits with a, well, cat-like grin.

“It’s a calculated risk… Necessary, even." Tashok says primly. "I know how much of these I’d need to eat for it to be an actual danger to my health, and it’s more than what we have in here, let me tell you.”

“Impressive.”

“Perhaps… Now, don’t interrupt me, I need to concentrate.”

With that she plops the piece into her mouth and repeats the earlier steps, pushing the bolus around her mouth as she tries to pin-point the familiar tinge she feels. Her eyes fly open as she stands and spits the piece into the waste bin.

“Could it be…?” she jumps to the table and brings out both imp stool and blisterwort, chopping both less finely than usual in her hurry.

Once the potion is done, Tashok takes a hearty swig, and turns to J’Zargo triumphantly.

“I was right!” her voice shakes with glee as she brandishes her potion. “It’s a healing potion! How amazing is that?! This little thing can harm _and_ heal…”

“Thrilling.” J’Zargo doesn’t sound very interested, however, though a smirk tugs at his lips.

“Hey!” Tashok gives him a gentle nudge on the shoulder. “You work on mastering destruction magic, I’ll work on mastering alchemy.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I always found it funny that whether you decide to be cautious or side with the apprentices doesn't really get addressed passed the first lesson.


End file.
